It is not sex that gives the pleasure, but the lover.

-Marge Piercy

The heat is stifling, overwhelming in its intensity. It's almost as bad as the summer heat in Missouri. It could, perhaps, be lessened if they disentangled their nearly naked limbs and parted lips, but that simply isn't an option at this point. Because Blaine Anderson needs Kurt Hummel's kisses more than he needs to inhale a single, cooling breath into his lungs. He needs Kurt's hands dusting against his skin, trailing through the sweat beading along his back, cupping his cheek and dragging his blunt fingernails down his neck to pull a sweet sigh from his parted lips.

            "Do you want to?" Kurt breathes against his sweaty skin while one of his fingers trails down to dance between the twin dimples at the base of Blaine's spine.

            "Please," Blaine whimpers, like a broken prayer, as he shuffles impossibly closer on the tiny, twin-sized bed in his room. "Please."

            "Shh," Kurt whispers, slipping his hand back up to tangle in Blaine's hair, still slightly sticky with the remnants of gel. "I've got you."

And he does. Kurt has always been there to catch Blaine when he feels like he's falling. He's been there so long that Blaine, to this day, has a hard time remembering what his life had been like before. Somehow, in the span of nearly two years of knowing each other, their souls had become quite firmly intertwined. Two months from now, they'll be in college in New York and Blaine is absolutely, one hundred percent positive that they'll still be just as devoted to each other.

They'll still have this: the insatiable need to be one. Blaine never thought he'd consider himself insatiable, but he is. After the first time he'd felt pleasure at Kurt's hands, he knew there'd be no going back or around it.

They could, however, go forward.

Sometimes, Blaine feels like he's the one keeping them from doing just that.

As Kurt slides away to peel off his boxer briefs, Blaine sucks in a shuddering, nervous breath. He can't help it, really. Despite the amount of times they've had penetrative sex, he still worries that he'll mess something up or that he'll do something Kurt doesn't like. The thing is, though, Kurt always leads them. He always guides Blaine down onto the bed, hovering over him with strong limbs until Blaine spreads his legs below, signaling Kurt to continue. Kurt slides into him the same way, all slow and gentle thrusts accompanied with sweet, encouraging words in Blaine's ear.

It's nice, of course. It's always nice and very nearly perfect.

But Blaine occasionally feels like he's never giving as much as he's getting. Perhaps, though, it's his fault. He had told Kurt that this couldn't be just sex for him; it had to be more than just sex for the sake of calming their rampant, teenage hormones. It had to be ‘I love you' and ‘I'm showing you with my body'. It had to be soft caresses and Blaine on his back, looking up into Kurt's warm eyes flooded with barely disguised arousal while he slid into Blaine's body with slow, measured thrusts.

And that is wonderful because Kurt does it so very well. He has respected Blaine's wishes from day one, always asking to touch, always making sure that Blaine really and truly wants this sort of intimacy. Blaine is profoundly grateful for Kurt's consideration and patience.

But now Blaine feels like he's holding them both back from something new, except he doesn't know how to bring it up.

Especially when Kurt slides off Blaine's boxers and begins kissing his way down Blaine's chest, only to pause and lick at one of Blaine's hip bones.

            "Mmm," Blaine hums appreciatively, reaching down to tuck a stray strand of Kurt's hair behind his ear.

Kurt looks ridiculously beautiful in the bit of moonlight spilling in between the cracks in his blinds, the faint silver glow of it falling over his naked back and tripping over the angles of his face. Even now, two years later, he's still the most gorgeous person Blaine has ever seen.

            "Can I finger you?" Kurt asks, resting his head on Blaine's hip, looking up hopefully.

A thrill of excitement zings through Blaine's body at Kurt's words. They've never tried anything like dirty talk or even swearing during sex, and even though the question is perfectly relevant and plain, the words themselves draw forth memories of Kurt slipping his fingers inside Blaine's body and dragging out soft moans of appreciation.

Blaine swallows and nods quickly, his cheeks and chest flushing in the almost-dark when Kurt grins, pleased at Blaine's assent. Kurt crawls up over him, planting a hasty kiss to Blaine's bare shoulder before reaching inside the nightstand and rooting around for the bottle of lube that Blaine knows is buried in the bottom of the drawer. When Kurt returns, he does so with the bottle and the square bit of foil they'll need soon.

            "Spread your legs for me?"

Blushing even deeper, Blaine consents while Kurt dribbles a bit of the lube on his fingers. It's not like he hasn't done this before, spread his legs for Kurt to work him open, but there's still something about baring that part of his body for this sole intention that makes Blaine think that maybe he should be silently praying for forgiveness.

That is, until Kurt's slick fingers brush over his entrance and Blaine's body immediately reacts by shifting toward those fingers. When Kurt obliges Blaine's eager, wordless pleading by dipping in a single finger, Blaine tosses his head back against his pillow, muscles quivering beneath his skin. It isn't as if he's fighting it, not like he did in the beginning when he had to remind himself that yes, this is how it's done and that yes, it's okay to want more. But his body still tightens at the intrusion, despite the familiar shape and size of Kurt's fingers. He still trembles when Kurt works him open slowly and stretches out beside him, the warmth of his body causing Blaine's skin to sizzle at the sensation.

            "A - another," Blaine whispers, burying his face in Kurt's neck.

Kurt's breath hitches. Blaine can feel the stutter of his chest and he knows it's because he's never asked for anything before, not outright. There's been the general ‘please' and the soft whimpers of ‘yes' to confirm that Kurt's doing everything right, but he's never said ‘another' or ‘more' or ‘just get inside me, already' because Blaine can't ever find it in himself to ask. It's still kind of strange to admit that yes, he does want more of this, of Kurt.

            "Please?" Blaine begs when Kurt's finger pauses inside him.

            "Okay," Kurt answers, simultaneously kissing the top of Blaine's head and pressing another finger inside of him.

Blaine moans in response, his body battling between remaining still and composed versus grinding down shamelessly on the slick, twisting fingers inside. He feels like he's just on the edge of something, like he's clinging to a thin piece of rope that's fraying in the center and threatening to snap. He wants to let go. He doesn't want to fight it anymore. But he's too afraid that Kurt will be absolutely appalled by Blaine acting so uncharacteristically.

But is it really so uncharacteristic to want?

Ignoring the war waging in his mind, Blaine focuses on the feeling of Kurt's fingers and the sure strength of his body next to him on his little bed. He groans against Kurt's skin when a third finger slips inside him, stretching, twisting, opening him for more.

            "Does it feel good?" Kurt asks softly, pressing his fingers in even more.

The question sets Blaine's veins alight with something like fire or ice, he can't quite decide, because it's perfectly frank and curious but Kurt's voice is so deep and maybe a little dangerous. It isn't as if Kurt hasn't asked questions before, but usually he asks whether or not Blaine's okay with his actions or if he's ready for more. He's never asked Blaine to admit how it feels. And it isn't about Kurt being inconsiderate, gosh no; it's just that, yes, while sex is about the feeling, it's about feeling good with Kurt and it's about the emotion behind it.

To admit anything else, in Blaine's mind, is selfish. Because it isn't about how he feels. It should be about how they feel together. Here they are, Kurt's fingers buried deep inside his body while Blaine hasn't so much as touched him, not really, and Kurt's asking whether or not it feels good for him.

            "Hmm?" Kurt prompts, turning slightly so that his erection brushes against Blaine's naked hip.

            "Y-yeah," Blaine stutters in admission, allowing one of Kurt's legs to drape over his own. "Feels - feels so good, oh..."

Kurt moans into his hair and thrusts against Blaine's hip. It's a quick, shallow movement, one born from pure, unbridled lust and Blaine's surprised to find that he wants Kurt to do it again. With that thought in mind and his own lust clouding his thoughts, Blaine crooks his leg up, pressing it between Kurt's willing thighs, effectively urging Kurt to thrust again.

            "Blaine," Kurt pants, the name muffled against Blaine's sweaty forehead.

            "Please," Blaine whines, hand trembling as he grips Kurt's arm, feeling the muscles strain and stretch beneath his skin as he continues to twist his fingers. "I - I want-" he swallows, throat dry because he doesn't ever just ask like this, "I want it."

At that, Kurt crooks his fingers, brushing against that bundle of nerves so deeply secreted away inside and Blaine nearly arches off the bed as he gasps.

            "Please, please, Kurt, please," Blaine begs, body taut with restraint while his fingers scrabble and claw at Kurt's sweat-slick skin.

            "Okay," Kurt whispers gently, sliding his fingers out and kissing the top of Blaine's head before turning and grabbing the lube and the condom.

Blaine shivers and he can feel the wet slide of excess lube dripping from his rim and down his crack to stain his bed sheets. It makes him shift self-consciously because he probably shouldn't enjoy the feeling as much as he does, like they're doing something completely and irrefutably dirty and he's not supposed to enjoy dirty things.

But when Kurt crawls over him, erection sheathed with a condom and slick with more lubricant, looking perfectly lovely with his thin, yet toned arms and the moonlight still splashing upon his damp skin, Blaine has to wonder if anything they do is intrinsically dirty in nature.

They're here together. They're in love and have been for over a year now. They're both consenting, quasi-adults in a stable, loving relationship, so why is it wrong to want? Is it wrong to want to touch, to feel, to enjoy everything they do? Is it wrong to enjoy, without shame or embarrassment, the things Kurt can give him, even if that's in the form of generous, physical pleasure?

Kurt lines himself up with Blaine's entrance.

            "Is this enough for you?"

Kurt pauses at the sound of Blaine's curious, scratchy voice, eyes immediately locking on his.

            "W-what?" Kurt asks. "What d'you-"

            "I just - I mean we do it the same way every time," Blaine explains, sliding his hands down Kurt's shoulder blades and further still to settle on his lower back.

            "...I...thought this is what you wanted," Kurt says timidly.

            "It is," Blaine says. "I mean, with you. It's what I - I - I don't know what I-"

            "Hey, shh," Kurt says calmly, rocking back to sit on his heels and bringing Blaine's open knees up to frame his body. He caresses Blaine's knees and thighs, stroking the fine smattering of hair. "It's okay. Just talk to me."

Blaine heaves a deep sigh, willing his frantic heartbeat to slow. "I - I know what I said," he begins. "But then I think of - of you and how good you make me feel and I have to wonder if this is enough. I wonder if you're happy doing just this, the same way every time. With - with me on my back and you..."

He trails off in embarrassment, dragging a hand down his face.

            "Are you asking if I'm bored with the sex?" Kurt asks plainly. "Because I can honestly say that I'm not."

            "I just - okay, just go with me on this."

Kurt nods, tilting his head to rub his smooth cheek against Blaine's knee.

            "I know I said it - that it needed to be like this, all slow and - and with us facing each other. And this is going to probably sound really weird but I think it's because I thought that was...the only way. To make love, I mean."

            "You think that if we do it differently, it won't have the same meaning," Kurt concludes calmly.

            "It's stupid, I know," Blaine sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I'm sorry."

            "It's not stupid," Kurt states. "You have to remember that I wasn't exactly having tons of sex before we met. Everything we do is special to me, Blaine, even this. From my...understanding, however, the position doesn't define the relationship. I don't think it matters who tops or bottoms or how we do it. It's about what we feel when we do it."

            "You mean, like..." Blaine bites his lip. "You mean how good it feels? To - to be doing it?"

One corner of Kurt's lips quirk up into a small smile. "Not exactly, though that's definitely something that counts because it shouldn't hurt. What I meant to say was that I think it's about how we feel for each other when we're doing it. I want you to feel good, whether it's slow or-" he clears his throat, "or even a little rough. There's not, like, a proper way to make love, I don't think."

            "So...if we tried something new, it - it'd still mean the same thing to you?" Blaine asks hesitantly.

            "Most definitely," Kurt says, leaning forward in order to kiss Blaine deeply, swiping his tongue along Blaine's lower lip as if to drive home his point. "Do you want to try something new?"

            "I just - I don't wanna hold us back anymore," Blaine admits. "You've been so patient, ever since you first kissed me and had to wait for me to accept that all of this was even okay. I want to give you-"

            "That's not what I asked," Kurt says softly, kissing Blaine once more. "I asked if you wanted to try something new."

            "I - yes," Blaine admits, a little breathless in his admission. "I just don't know what to - to ask for."

Kurt pulls back, dragging his hands down Blaine's body in order to grip his now half-interested erection in a firm, tight fist. Blaine gasps, bucking up into the touch. Kurt's hands never fail to pull him apart, almost as if he's capable of wrenching out every bit of suppressed pleasure from Blaine's timid body. Kurt bends down and kisses the inside of Blaine's thigh.

            "Do you trust me?" he asks simply.

            "Of course I do."

Smiling, Kurt pulls back entirely, including his very talented hand and taps Blaine's leg.

            "Roll over?" he suggests.

At first, Blaine pauses because he isn't entirely sure this is what he'd had in mind when he brought up the issue, but he does trust Kurt so he twists onto his stomach. He immediately shivers when he feels Kurt's warm body hovering over him, slick erection brushing against Blaine's lower back. Blaine gasps as Kurt's lips begin trailing soft kisses across his shoulders.

            "Not exactly like this," Kurt whispers, sucking at the birthmark at the base of Blaine's neck. "On your knees but, um, holding onto your headboard?"

Blaine is absolutely positive that his heart has never pulsed as quickly as it decides to now. He complies, though, shifting onto his knees and gripping the edge of his headboard with white knuckles and shaking arms. In that moment, when Kurt shuffles up behind him and begins trailing soft fingertips over his sides and down the front of his thighs, Blaine looks to the ceiling.

            "Praying for strength?" Kurt teases, lips dotting Blaine's shoulders with feather-light kisses.

            "Praying not to come completely unglued," Blaine admits, laughing nervously.

            "You can, you know," Kurt whispers, sliding his hands around Blaine's stomach. "It's okay to fall apart here with me. I want to know you're enjoying this."

            "I just - I'm scared because I know you love me and I'm afraid that - that if I do, it won't...really be me anymore."

            "No," Kurt breaths, pressing his cheek to the top of Blaine's spine. "That's not what it is at all. It's just another part of you. You should never be afraid to hold that back, Blaine. Please, please don't be scared of that."

And Kurt says it with such conviction that Blaine thinks he's been perfectly silly this entire time, thinking along such lines.

            "O-Okay," he stutters, closing his eyes.

            "It's just me," Kurt reassures. "It's just us. Your parents aren't even here, remember? So it's - it's okay if you're, you know, a bit, um...loud."

Blaine cranes his neck around. "You think I'll be loud?"

            "I...might have this...fantasy," Kurt admits.

Laughing softly, Blaine returns his gaze to the wall. "I guess we'll see."

            "I guess we will," Kurt whispers, trailing his fingers down, down, down Blaine's spine and further still to trail down the crease between his cheeks.

Blaine gasps, body jolting when the tip of Kurt's finger brushes against his still-slick entrance. He allows his head to fall back slowly, baring his throat to God and Kurt alike and giving into the ever present battle between mind and body, allowing himself to simply feel.

And react.

He moans louder than he ever has when Kurt slips in a single finger, swirling it inside and stretching him just that much more.

            "K-Kurt," he sighs, pressing back against Kurt's hand.

But Kurt denies him, removing his finger and reaching for the bottle of lube once more, slicking himself up again for good measure.

            "I want you to tell me," Kurt says against Blaine's shoulder and Blaine can feel Kurt's arm against his back after he tosses the lube aside, gripping himself and rubbing the tip against Blaine's hole. "I want you tell me what you want."

            "I - I - please," Blaine babbles, already attempting to push down around Kurt's erection.

            "Please," Kurt returns, sliding an arm around Blaine's waist. "Tell me."

            "Inside me," Blaine finally says. "Please, I want you inside me, I want it."

Kurt groans and shifts up, the blunt head slipping through Blaine's hole, pressing through the tight ring of muscle and Blaine's grip on the headboard tightens. He bites his lips, suppressing what might otherwise be a very loud whimper when Kurt pulls him back with his strong arm encircling Blaine's waist.

            "Let go of the headboard," Kurt whispers into his ear.

Blaine thinks he might come unhinged if he does so, like he'll lose his anchor on reality, but he relents and releases the edge of the headboard, sinking back into Kurt's lap, driving Kurt further inside him.

            "Good god," Kurt moans, hands sliding up Blaine's front in order to grasp his rigid shoulders.

Yes, Blaine thinks, God is very, very good tonight. That might be slightly, um, blasphemous, considering the circumstances, but he's been given the opportunity to feel this, to experience this with someone he loves and trusts and that can't be too wrong.

Thoughts of God and sin are forced from his mind, however, when Kurt begins to thrust shallowly. Blaine tosses his head back against Kurt's shoulder, turning so he can press a swift, messy kiss to Kurt's warm neck.

            "I - I never say it because I don't wanna - but holy shit, you're so fucking tight," Kurt hisses, thrusting up sharply.

Blaine cries out and he probably shouldn't find Kurt's swearing a turn on, but it is, and Kurt talking about how tight his ass is shouldn't make him even harder, but it does. He loops his arm up and around to grip the back of Kurt's neck. Kurt turns, capturing Blaine's lips in a frantic kiss, darting his tongue into Blaine's mouth and swiping lazily at the back of his teeth. Blaine whines, tangling his fingers into Kurt's hair while Kurt slips his hands down to dig almost painfully into Blaine's hips. He might have bruises there tomorrow, but for some reason, the thought of blue and purple staining his hips is far more thrilling than it probably should be.

But this isn't about should be's anymore; this is about what is and how amazing Kurt is making him feel.

So maybe he should tell him.

            "Feels so good," Blaine breathes against Kurt's open mouth. "You feel so good inside me."

Kurt swears under his breath, kissing Blaine hard as he thrusts in deeply, forcing Blaine off his lap just enough so he can pull back and drive back in quickly. Blaine moans into the heated air of his room. He rocks back and forth on his knees, meeting Kurt's pace as best he can, slamming his eyes shut when one of Kurt's hands settles on his chest, just over his heart.

There's a faint sound, a tinkling of metal, and that's when Blaine realizes he'd forgotten to take of his cross necklace. Usually it feels too heavy against his skin when they're doing something like this and he allows Kurt to remove it with deft fingers. This time, though, they both pause at the sound of Kurt's thumb upsetting the cross on the chain, and when Kurt makes to lift his hand and unclasp it, Blaine quickly covers Kurt's hand with his own.

Every so slowly, amidst their heavy breathing, Blaine guides Kurt's hand to the cross dangling just below that dip at the base of his throat, in the middle of his collar bone. He twines their fingers together, effectively wrapping the cross in Kurt's palm, encased by both of their hands.

It's another part of him, he thinks, just like his sexuality, just like the fact that he can most definitely enjoy the things Kurt does to him. His faith shouldn't be this heavy bit of silver between them.

Because Kurt loves all of him.

Every last bit.

            "I love you," Kurt whispers raggedly into Blaine's ear, thrusting in once more. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Blaine whines, his voice high and clear when Kurt's other hand slips down to wrap around Blaine's erection, twisting his wrist and pumping him slowly. They squeeze the cross together one last time and that's when Blaine breathes out a string of words he never, ever thought he'd say:

            "K-Kurt," he stutters. "Fuck me."

He has absolutely no idea what to call the noise that tumbles from Kurt's lips, but he's pretty sure he's never heard something so erotic in his life. The words were foreign on his lips, but he can't regret saying them. It's okay like this; it's okay to bruise, to want, to beg, to need it. It's okay to say it. It's okay because it doesn't change what they have. The words, the language, it doesn't change the intent behind the act.

They release their hold on the cross and Kurt's hand drags across Blaine's sweaty skin to press gently between his shoulder blades, urging him forward. Blaine groans and goes willingly, gripping the headboard once more. He feels open like this for some reason, bared to Kurt's hands and hips and lips. Kurt shifts more onto his knees behind him and licks a long, wet line over Blaine's shoulder and up his neck. Blaine can't help but hiss in excitement.

Kurt continues to rock into him, continues to stroke Blaine's erection with the circle of his palm and fingers, and Blaine feels like he really is coming unglued. He's pretty sure he's never felt so aroused, even when Kurt sucked him off for the first time and man, that had been fantastic.

            "Fucking hell," Kurt swears, his free hand winding up to grip the hair on the back of Blaine's head. "Blaine, you - god."

They're so sweaty now, rocking and sliding together and Blaine lowers his head, trusting in Kurt's hands to make his body sing with yet more pleasure, even if he can't see him.

And when he looks down, he's suddenly entranced by the sight of the cross hanging from his neck, dangling so modestly, and swaying with every single thrust and every movement of Blaine's body in kind. He groans then, but for all the wrong reasons. Instead of groaning in annoyance, he groans in unrestrained passion. He forces his hips back, driving Kurt deeper inside of him, nearly wailing at the perfect fullness of it. The sight of the cross is strangely empowering and seductive, like he's doing something dirty and that specific something thrills him to no end because it's deliciously dirty. And even though this, with Kurt buried inside of his body, might be wrong to some, it feels absolutely right to him.

            "Harder," Blaine grinds out between clenched teeth.

            "Sh-shit," Kurt stammers, "are you sure?"

            "Yes," Blaine assures, one hand abandoning its place on the headboard to twist around and dig into the muscled flesh of Kurt's ass. "Kurt, please - ah!"

He cries out when Kurt does as he's asked, thrusting, grinding, slamming into him harder. Blaine braces himself with his hand on the headboard, pushing back and holding himself there while Kurt continues to fuck him relentlessly because it is fucking but it's making love, too. Blaine loves this, loves Kurt, loves feeling Kurt sliding in and out of him and fisting him with a sweaty palm.

Blaine can feel the slight tap of the silver cross against his chest with every bit of movement and he can feel the tight, hot, coiling sensation building up in his belly.

            "Kurt, Kurt, I'm - oh, my God," Blaine moans, tossing his head back and yeah, he definitely used the Lord's name in vane but fuck, if he can't be forgiven for that, of all things, then there's absolutely no hope for either of them.

He comes harder than he ever has in his life, spurting white strings all over Kurt's hand and his pillow but oh, he doesn't have time to mourn the loss of his pillowcase right now because he's still coming, Kurt wringing every last bit of his orgasm from his body when Kurt drives into him just a few more times before he's coming, too, erection pulsing, buried deep inside Blaine's tense, strung out body. Blaine thinks Kurt might've mixed a few swear words in with his name, but he's basically too high to care right now, floating just below heaven and hovering right above hell.

They both slump forward, bodies spent and sated, Blaine's forehead colliding with the back of his hand against the headboard.

            "Jesus, I love you," Kurt pants heavily against Blaine's back.

            "I love you, too," Blaine replies.

So does Jesus, he doesn't say, biting back a snort of laughter when he thinks it.

            "C'mere," Kurt says, wrapping a weak arm around Blaine's middle and tugging them both back onto their heels.

With his fingers still tangled in Blaine's hair, he turns Blaine's head and their lips meet in a clumsy, lazy kiss. Blaine sighs softly into it, relaxing into Kurt's strong body, purposefully ignoring the fact that he now has his come spread all over his stomach. They'll have to shower soon and Blaine will swap out his soiled pillowcase for a clean one, but for now it's just nice to feel Kurt's skin against his while the cross hangs coolly on its chain against his chest.

            "I never thought I'd find it so hot to hear you swear," Kurt admits, kissing Blaine's neck and smiling against his pulse point.

            "Same goes for you, Mr. Fuck-You-Feel-So-Good," Blaine teases warmly.

            "Yeah, well, it was true," Kurt says, sliding his hand from Blaine's hair and down his side. "It's always true."

            "Mmm," Blaine hums in contentment.

            "I don't care how busy we get at college," Kurt says. "We have to find time for this."

            "We will. I'll make sure of it."

            "You know, I was thinking..."

            "It's not good to think so hard after sex," Blaine says flatly. "I think I read somewhere that it can be very detrimental to one's mental health."

            "I was thinking," Kurt says again, giving a quick pinch to Blaine's thigh, smiling when Blaine yelps, "you know that whole Bible thing? About how a man shouldn't lie with another man?"

            "...What about it?" Blaine asks warily, ignoring the sudden weight of his cross.

            "Well, in the interest of our new pursuit to try out different things, it doesn't say anything about doing it against the wall."

At first, Blaine freezes, thinking about how wrongly Kurt had interpreted the phrase, but then he feels Kurt's sly grin against his skin and he simply cannot help it when he laughs loudly, the summer heat of night swallowing up his giggles as they collapse, sated and loved and happy, into a tangled pile of limbs on top of his bed.

But remember when I moved in you

And the holy dove was movin' too

And every breath we drew was hallelujah

-'Hallelujah' by Leonard Cohen